Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Wintec Press Club: Rachel Glucina edition

The Wintec Press Club meets for lunch three times a year in
Hamilton: guests are the students of the Wintec journalism course, important
media types from the Waikato and Auckland, politicians and famous sporty types.
The host is Steve Braunias, Editor in Residence on the course.

Felled by flu, I was unable to attend Friday’s luncheon which
featured the NZ Herald’s gossip
writer Rachel
Glucina, but here is a guest post from Joshua Drummond (regular readers may
recall his Horrible
Painting of Michael Laws) who did attend and, as a trained and skilled graduate
of the course, took notes. He reports:

Steve Braunias kicked things off in customary style with a
speech and congratulations to various personages in the room, alluding to
several people who’d refused to come to hear Glucina speak, because they might
catch her lack of ethics, or something. He did a shout-out to Dave Snell, Dr of
Boganology, whom I mention here because he’s a good mate and he has a
documentary series on bogans coming up on TV2. Watch it, because it’s about
actual New Zealand people, and fuck-all primetime NZ television is these days.
End plug.

Glucina’s talk was done as a Q&A with Braunias, which was
a useful change in format. Several Press Club speakers, while still
instructive, have alternately droned and babbled. She began it, bright and
bubbly, with talk of previous guest “Holmsie” [Paul Holmes], an affectation
that pissed me off straight away, and how she’d got good and boozed with him
and he’d become a mentor and role model with the advice: “You’re not here to
make friends, you’re here to break stories.”

Braunias prompted her into an anecdote about her story on
Mick Jagger, which was genuinely interesting because it snapped her out of the
self-absorbed mode, and had her discussing the way she went about pursuing the
story. Braunias asked about the ethics of outing Alison Mau and her same-sex
relationship. Well, that was fine, Glucina opined, because everyone knew about
it anyway. Everyone? Well, yes, and besides, Mau had sold stories to women’s
magazines in the past so she was fair game.

The things that came to mind at this point were: no, the
public didn’t know, and what right did she have to out someone? Surely it’s a
personal decision to publicly reveal your sexuality? Braunias asked something
similar. No, that didn’t matter, because Mau was in the public eye and had sold
stories, and blah fucking blah. It was around then I fired off the following
tweet:

Well this is fucked. #rachelglucina

Much more of this sort of thing followed. Any talk of whether
it was worth wrecking people’s lives was met with the argument that they were
in the public eye, so what. Laughing, she spun a yarn about her pursuit of the
Ridges, with some ghoulish “friends” who’d sold them out to her. It had me
cringing. A person at my table passed me a note. It said “Sociopath = no
remorse.”

When she wasn’t playing up her close celebrity relationships,
or how important she was because people called her to tell her shit, or how
many contacts she had (“literally hundreds!”) Glucina was genuinely
sympathetic. People had abused her quite horribly, as well as offering her
bribes and (mystifyingly) “taken their clothes off” at her to try and get her
not to write things. She spoke of Cameron Slater’s hideous social-media
campaign against her – “hate speech”, she said – which nearly forced her to
England. A chance meeting with the CEO of APN kept her in New Zealand.

Braunias did ask whether she’d paid much attention to her
minor role in noted gossip Nicky Hager’s new book, Dirty Politics. No, she
hadn’t read it, and she’d never met Hager anyway. What did she think of Hager?
“Don’t know, never met him.” She said it with a snap.

One of the best bits was her story of how Judith Collins
brokered a friendship between her and Slater. The way she told it, Collins had
buttonholed her at a cocktail party and said she’d arranged for Slater to
apologise to her. Glucina doubted it would happen, but it did. She seemed
uncomfortable with the outcome – which isn’t surprising as it looks like
Collins had essentially said, “Children: your bickering is becoming politically
inconvenient. How can I advance my career when my dogs are fighting? Make up,
now.” And they did.

People were well warmed up for the Q&A. It quite quickly
became, in Braunias’ closing words, fractious. Most questions centred on
whether what she did was ethically tenable. Justifications varied. Questions
about the depths her gossip plumbed were met with “It’s my job.” She swatted
away allegations of partisan bias with “I’m just a gossip columnist.”

Comedian Te Radar came up with a question that was more of an
impassioned riposte about how she’d portrayed herself as a Breaker of Stories
and a Purveyor of the Public Interest, but who actually mostly broke stories
about which rugby league player got a taxicab blowjob from whom. Her response
amounted to: “If the public read/click on it, then it was obviously in the
public interest to release it.” My thoughts are that just because that the
public are interested doesn’t mean that it’s in their interest. Cynicism
compels me to think that if anything, it’s in the newspaper’s interest.

My question about whether tweeting a picture of Aaron Smith’s
schlong was ethically OK got a “Well, everyone had already seen it.” Well, no,
not really. Or even slightly, actually. “It was doing the rounds.” But the
public hadn’t seen it. “He shouldn’t have taken it.” How is it his fault if he
got betrayed by a supposed friend? “We talked to his agent.” I don’t want to
see dick pics from the New Zealand Herald in my feed. “You don’t have to follow
me.” Well, I don’t, but it was retweeted.

At this point it was turning into an argument and Braunias
moved on to the next question, which was fair enough. I’d had too much wine and
my reputation for asking obnoxious questions was threatening to get out of
hand. A woman sensibly followed up with a question about whether Glucina would
have done the same if the subject of the picture had been a woman. Sadly, I
can’t remember enough of the response to paraphrase it. Perhaps someone else
who was there will.

Some guy asked a stupid question about how Glucina could even
be friends with Judith Collins. Braunias didn’t even bother with that one.
Metro editor Simon Wilson asked if she was aware that she was being played by
people as much as she was playing them. Her answer, paraphrased, was: yes, but
at the end of the day it didn’t matter because people read and clicked and her
job was done. All part of the game. I
got to ask another question: “Rachel, you’re clearly good bros with John Key
and Judith Collins. You must know a lot about them. Are you an equal-opportunity
gossip? Are we going to find out interesting facts about them?” She said,
essentially, “Uh, maybe.” I said, “When?” Laughter. No actual answer, though.

David Slack closed the Q&A amid some vocal run-on
questions from others in the crowd. His rich intonation sailed above the
quarrelling of the mob as he queried how we could be sure of the veracity of Glucina’s second-hand claims. Her answer, which bordered on tautology, was that we
can because they’re true. OK.

It was all very interesting. Kudos to Steve Braunias for
bringing in a fascinating guest. It was worthy as a snapshot of the changing
face of news and for the genuine questions posed about the nature of what
constitutes public interest. It was also an insight into a deeply fucked-up
personality: an art historian, a self-identified homebody who turns in early,
hates parties and whose day job is spinning vituperation. It was Interview with
the Pit Viper.